


Dust on the Ground

by Elysium (aethernotair)



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, Multi, Mutual Pining, Possibly smut in later chapters, Romance, Slight Crack fic, Slow Burn, but nothing too graphic, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? idk, i’m not cruel in that way, lots fluff too, potential tw for violence and death, so expect to be left with a lot of questions, teacher x teacher stuff bc i’m soft for this trope, the kids cause a riot, this is a mystery/thriller sort of thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aethernotair/pseuds/Elysium
Summary: They had been out of Toledo for years now, but two events that unfolded there weighed heavy on Sergio Marquina’s shoulders still. Tuscany was a fresh start; for him, for his colleagues, for his small set of students. Hidden away in a converted monastery, far away from anything that could possibly hurt them again. What Sergio had lost there — on two separate nights — he thought he had lost forever. He could have made peace with that, eventually, if only what he had lost hadn’t been brought back to him.This AU follows Sergio as a principal of a small boarding school, still struggling to cope with two past events that led to uprooting his little school from Spain to Italy; one event seemingly unrelated to the other, occurring two years apart. When a piece of their past reappears, however ,the kids suspect that what they knew — what they had experienced —  wasn’t what they thought it was, and desperate to piece together the whole story, they begin an effort to uncover the real disaster of Toledo. Backstories and anecdotes are interlaced throughout the story as the students uncover them, solving piece by piece just what exactly led up to their fateful night.** Paula does not exist in this universe
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, so this is my first fic in the LCDP fandom, and it’s a story i’ve been stewing over for the better part of the last six months, so I hope it lives up to what I have planned out in my head. I’ve got a lot of ideas and a basic plan for this story, but it may end up longer than what I anticipate it to be, so I hope you’re in it for the long run. I also understand mystery and angst isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I promise little fluffy parts as compensation. I really really hope I’m able to convey the story well, and comments are appreciated! although let it be noted hate comments will be beaten by a bat. 
> 
> There will be tw’s at the beginning of each chapter if anything does apply, but there will be mentions of deaths, violence, abuse and trauma throughout, though it doesn’t delve into any dark themes particularly. 
> 
> Thank you to my girls for proof reading, since I was quite reluctant about the prologue (I’m bad at putting my ideas into cohesive words). I’ll try to update every week/second week consistently.
> 
> Anyways, enough preamble, I hope you enjoy!

It was happening again. The nightmares. It didn’t happen often — _not anymore_ — but when it did, it shook him completely. Sergio Marquina tossed in his bed, his duvet on the floor, pillows strewn across the room. Once they started, he couldn’t make them stop.It was like an unbreakable sequence, keeping him trapped for the full ride.

The worst? They always started the same way, taking him back to that same night, with her.

_She was clenching the letter tightly in her fist, ripping the clothes from her wardrobe and throwing them behind her. She grabbed and pulled with so much force Sergio had expected the wooden cabinet to come undone, to fall apart, succumbing to her exasperation which she was so desperately trying to mask as she threw dresses and shirts and whatever else carelessly into a leather trunk.She was sniffling — tears spilling down her cheeks and a runny nose — but she didn’t cry or weep._

That damned letter. Sergio winced, clenching the sheets. He always felt like an observer to his own past in these moments. The lump in his throat formed again, his breaths grew shakier. He knew he would never have peace with them. His mind reeled forward, sending him to the next awful night. It was cruel how the nightmares merged two traumatic events together. 

_“Wake the kids and get them the fuck out of here.” His brother yelled through the halls. Doors were slamming, lights were flashing. Frenzied shouts and screams were coming from every direction. Sergio had gathered a sleepy Silene and Daniel in his arms and he was just running. He never forgot the look in their eyes; he couldn’t — a ten year old should have never been so terrified. He had tripped a few times but never fell as he ran with them, he wished he had been more steady on his feet. He wished he had been faster._

Martín watched Sergio from the doorway, his heart sank a little. It had been months since Sergio had last suffered a nightmare like this. Andrés would be here soon, and he couldn’t do much as he waited, so he just watched, hoping the kids wouldn’t hear Sergio’s cries. Her name escaped his mouth and Martín’s face fell; these nightmares always followed the same pattern, like they ran a script.

_“Raquel... Raquel- Raquel please...” Her name fell like a hoarse prayer from his lips and he felt like a sinner, confessing and repenting with every desperate breath, but when she turned around with such fury — red eyes meeting red eyes — he knew at that very moment he wouldn’t be granted forgiveness tonight. Raquel held up her fist, paper crumpled and creased between her palm and her knuckles, fragile words between her fingers threatening to tear and rip them both apart._

_“Give me one reason...” Raquel’s voice shook despite her attempt to keep it level, tears pooling at the edges of her quivering lips. “...give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”_

_Sergio blinked, pushing his glasses up quickly with his thumb, looking everywhere else but at her. “T-the kids... Raquel, the kids-“_

Sergio was mumbling through his laboured breaths now. Andrés had arrived, sitting cautiously on the side of his brother’s bed. He listened to Sergio and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wanted to scream; it was always the same nightmare, it was always the same two nights his mind tortured him with. Martín asked if it was necessary to call for Marseille. Andrés shook his head; not yet.

_He had started to hear them. Bang. Bang. Bang. The kids in his arms screamed, Sergio held them tighter, the panic room wasn’t far. He had never intended the panic room to be used when he converted the toledan country house — why would a school ever need a panic room? His mind was all over the place; he needed to reassure himself that everyone was out. He had passed Martín in the halls, holding Ágata in one arm and pulling Aníbal out of his room with he other. He was sure he had heard Bogotá banging on the rooms of the others. Augustín would gather the other kids, and Marseille was frantically trying to diffuse whatever situation had stormed in on their quiet night; Sergio saw him being approached by two of the intruders in the courtyard, arms held above his head, guns pointed to his ribs. He held the children’s heads on his neck as he ran. He wished he hadn’t saw it either._

Martín heard small voices come from down the corridors and sent Andrés a sad smile before he shut the door and left, doubtless that some of their students had tried their luck at a midnight feast again. Andrés placed a gentle hand on his brother’s, feeling his erratic pulse under his fingers and sighed again. Sergio was sweating, his head tossing from side to side, brows knitted together and mouth agape like he was gasping for air. Andrés brushed his thumb softly over the back of his brothers hand, he was always there for the worst of it.

_He watched her leave, unable to choke out another word. “Keep the kids out of this,” Raquel had said sharply, slamming her trunk shut. Sergio jumped, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. She ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes. Sergio vividly remembered the pain on her face. God knew he felt it too, “All fucking night you- you’ve been rambling about the kids, Sergio...” Raquel choked back a sob, looking at him with an expression he could only read as hurt,_

_“You know I’m doing this for them. to protect them.”_

_And she didn’t let him utter a single word after that — he couldn’t have if he tried — leaving their school in his hands. He would have never thought he would be able to compare the pain of that night to another._

_Two years after that night he could._

A sharp sob escaped Sergio’s lips and Andrés winced, taking Sergio’s hand in his. He knew what part of the nightmare he had reached, and he would wake up soon. It wouldn’t be pleasant, it never was. He took the radio out of his robe with his other hand and quietly asked Marseille to come. Andrés watched his brother; there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t wish he could bottle the pain and guilt his brother was tormented with, and bury it into a deep tench. Though, it wasn’t the nature of these events to buried away.

They always came back kicking and screaming — to the adults and the kids — but they weighed heavier on Sergio’s mind, clawing and dragging him down with them. Sergio’s grip tightened around his brother’s hand and the tears were spilling in streams down his cheeks, the same as they always did. Marseille responded promptly, and Martín confirmed that Daniel and Mirko had been sent back to bed. Not much longer, Andrés sighed.

_Two bodies, riddled with bullets. Sergio fell to his knees and a heartbroken cry fell out of his mouth. Everyone else had made it into the panic room; they were still there, not daring to come until their professor declared it safe. Marseille was the last to come in, completely breathless, stating that it was policemen who had decided to raid the house under a completely baseless accusation of suspicious activity. Only after a hefty confrontation were they warded off, however Marseille had an intuition that this was planned._

_Two people were still missing, yet Marseille swore all the bedrooms were empty. The kids were crying, shaking, absolutely terrified to their bones. They were supposed to be safe here. Martín and Andrés offered them as much comfort as they could, Bogotá tried to reason with Marseille; “You must have missed somewhere!”._

_Daniel was distraught, his father wasn’t there to hold him; Mirko had entered a meltdown, his twin brother wasn’t there to hold his hand. Amidst the panic among the kids, Sergio had left to sweep the house in it’s aftermath, ready to expect the worst, which in his eyes was a few sprained joints and some bruises. He wasn’t — and couldn't have ever been —prepared to see his colleague and a student laying murdered on his classroom floor; Augustín and Radko. He could have sworn his heart stopped beating at that very moment. A familiar pain took over him, a type of pain he hadn’t felt for years._

_Explaining to ten year old kids that their father, their brother, members of their little family, had been killed under his watch was something that tore Sergio to shreds on the inside and out. He saw their lifeless faces, he had to bury them. They couldn’t live in that house anymore. Raquel’s words rang in his head._

_He had failed to protect them_. 

Sergio woke up with a start, his body shooting up from the bed, disoriented and panicked. Andrés withdrew his hand, looking at his brother worriedly, though it was never a surprise that he woke up in this way. There were nights when it was worse, where he kicked and screamed and took off into the night, sometimes for hours. Luckily tonight was not one of those. Marseille was standing at the foot of his bed, already setting up his equipment. Sergio trembled, looking around the room through tears, trying to make sense of everything. The images inside of his mind were flashing rapidly.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Sergio buried his face in his hands and muffled a frustrated scream. Andrés’ heart ached at the pain that laced it, he knew exactly where his little brother’s mind had taken him. It was always the same routine, always the same pattern of events switching through his nightmare, like some sort of sick, twisted seesaw. Marseille shut his case with a click.

_“Goodbye, Sergio.”_

Sergio wept at the noise.

With a heavy sigh, Marseille sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on Sergio’s shoulder gently. He flinched.

“Sergio,” Marseille said quietly, “I need to check your blood pressure.”

Sergio didn’t react, he never did in this state, and so Marseille attached the machine to his bicep, watching him carefully. Andrés sat on the other side of Sergio, placing a hand gently on his thigh, feeling his body shake beneath his palm.

“It’s okay,” Andrés said softly. Sergio’s hands fell from his face, looking at his brother fearfully. “We’re not in Toledo anymore, the kids are safe and asleep.”

Sergio just looked at him blankly, his fingers brushing over the sheets, the faint smell of rosemary and incense seeping into his nostrils. He sniffed. They weren’t in Toledo anymore. The colder stone walls of the Monastery they had set up in reminded him of that. His senses grounded him, bringing him back to the present. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he nodded at his Andrés.

Andrés watched as his younger brother slowly brought himself back, his shoulders slumping slightly. He had relaxed considerably — he usually managed to bring himself down using calming techniques he had picked up. They seemed to work well tonight. Marseille watched his heart rate decrease, sending a short smile to Andrés. Sergio reached out to his nightstand, shakily taking his glasses and placing them on his nose, nudging them weakly with his thumb. He looked at his brother, eyes red and puffy.

“H-how bad?” Sergio asked hoarsely, still jittery, but at least he was present. There were nights were he couldn’t tear himself out of these terrors for hours.

Andrés sighed, and Marseille sent him a knowing look. He couldn’t lie, not tonight.

“Very.”

Sergio ran a hand through his hair. “Who h-heard?”

“Just us, Martín was here earlier,” Andrés attempted a weak chuckle. “I suspect Bogotá is still asleep.”

Sergio nodded, turning to watch Marseille as he took down a few notes. The sun had started to rise, dotting the room with specks of morning light. Andrés saw the question still in Sergio’s eyes, and he knew he would never ask it aloud.

“You called for her,” Andrés said quietly. Sergio suppressed any sort of reaction, keeping his lips pressed together. The hitch in his breath however was not lost on Andrés nor Marseille. “Like you do every time.”

Sergio closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. There was some sort of mental box that had been ticked in Sergio’s head, Andrés was sure of it. “That... That doesn’t mean anything.”

Marseille snorted. “Oh, it doesn’t?”

Sergio sent him a glare.

“What?” He shrugged, “You don’t cry your ex-girlfriend’s name in the middle of the night for no reason.”

“She was not my girlfriend.” Sergio stated sharply. He looked down, shaking his head again slightly. They always teased him, but he wasn’t in the mood. He never was. “She was a colleague, a-and the sacrifice she had to make was unfortunate-”

Marseille shot Andrés a look, rolling his eyes. Sergio looked up at them both, his jaw slacking. He often wondered what he had done to have wound up working with his brother and his oldest friends. An unfortunate miscalculation on his part perhaps, although he could never say he was unhappy with the arrangement. And it wouldn’t go without saying that they were a magnificent team when it came to teaching their small set of kids. Well, as magnificent as they were without Raquel- Sergio stopped his train of thought. He wouldn’t spiral again, not tonight. He couldn’t afford to. They had done fine without her for years, and they would continue to do so.

“You’re both ridiculous.” Sergio scoffed. Marseille snickered, taking the machine away from Sergio. Andrés held back a chuckle for his brother’s sake. It never took long for him to recover from his panicked state, no matter how hard it was for him. Some light teasing had alway seemed to pull him out of whatever darkness he got himself stuck in, Marseille knew this too well.

“Alright, well.. we’re done here,” Sergio snapped, his voice thick. He stood up from the bed, starting to pick up his pillows. This time Andrés shot Marseille a look, watching him as he packed up the machine. Sergio threw his pillows onto the bed, picking up some of the lesson plans he had been working on that had fallen from his nightstand. He looked up at them.

“What?”

Andrés stood up too, dusting off his robe.

“You cant keep brushing off these episodes like they’re nothing Sergio,” Andrés said sincerely. Marseille let out a hum of agreement, picking up his case. Sergio shook his head at his brother, but was cut off before he could speak again. “The kids took therapy, and they took to it well, we all did! And, well... you didn’t even try.”

“I don’t need therapy.”

“You do.”

“I can handle this.”

“You clearly can’t,” Andrés frowned. He walked towards the door, shrugging. “Toledo hurt as all, Sergio, and I know whatever happened with Raquel those years before didn’t help. It’s clearly still messing with you.”

Sergio cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to the other. Suddenly acutely aware he was still in his pyjamas as the sunlight crept over his back through the windows. He knew Andrés was right — it wasn’t a complete coincidence that his mind merged these two nights together; they were years apart too. Sergio grumbled, it was just two very unfortunate nights that happened to have buried themselves in his subconscious mind. Nothing else. Though, unfortunate might have been an understatement.

“Nothing happened with Raquel. You know what she had to do. We all did.”

“And still look at how we ended up.”

“Marseille!” Andrés exclaimed, whacking him promptly in the ribs. Marseille groaned. Sergio looked at them both, unimpressed or angry, they couldn’t tell through the tears that still stained his glasses. There was something hidden behind Sergio’s eyes, Andrés could never pinpoint what exactly it was. Sometimes he saw pain and hurt, other times he saw just simple sadness. Occasionally it was complete, but obviously forced, indifference whenever Raquel was mentioned. Whatever it was, it wasn’t lost on Andrés. He would figure it out soon enough.

“Alright! I was just saying, she didn’t have to do it.” Marseille grumbled, “But we all know she left because—”

Sergio cleared his thought loudly, cutting him off. Marseille and Andrés both looked at him confused. He nudged his glasses up with his thumb, motioning towards the door with his arm. They both turned, and their expressions softened.

“I-I couldn’t sleep...” Mónica stood sheepishly in the doorway of the professor’s room, scratching the back of her neck. She knew she had interrupted something, what exactly she had interrupted she wasn’t sure; it wasn’t like the professor to host anyone in his room at this time. Well, it wasn’t like any of the adults to be awake at this time either. Marseille smiled and crouched in front of her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Why don’t I make us both something warm, hot chocolate?” He asked softly. Stockholm nodded, looking past him towards Berlin and the Professor. She noticed Marseille held his medical case in one hand, and the Professor seemed off — there was something clouding his glasses. Marseille shifted slightly, blocking her view. _“Vale, Mónica.”_

He stood up, turning with her, sending Andrés and Sergio a nod over his shoulder. They disappeared down the corridor, their voices fading away, and it was only when he was sure they couldn't be heard anymore Andrés continued.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sergio,” He said softly. Sergio didn’t dare to look at his brother, holding his breath. “and I know you know it’s not true. It’s not your fault, the attack, Raquel—”

“Andrés, please,” Sergio shook his head, running a hand through his hair He looked defeated, and Andrés decided not to press him further. “I... I just... I don’t want to do this, not now.”

“Alright... but if this happens another time—” He was cut off by Sergio again.

“It won’t.”

Andrés shrugged, making his way to the door. “You said that last time... and the time before that-”

“Andrés...” Sergio warned, sending his brother a look that said he wasn’t in the mood to be lectured. The lectures were his thing, anyways. Andrés raised his hands, admitting his defeat to Sergio. It was too late — or too early — to argue anyways, and it seemed they both just wanted to get back to bed. Sergio definitely wanted to take refuge under the covers.

“Is everything set up for the evening?” He sighed, wanting to change the subject. Andrés let him, not wanting to provoke his brother any further. Besides, he had some something planned for Sergio anyways, and by god was he going to hate him for it.

“Daniel is going to have the best fourteenth birthday party we can give him,” Andrés nodded reassuringly. Sergio forced a small smile towards his brother. “Don’t worry about it, I have it covered. You just focus on their classes.”

“As long as there’s no repeats of last year.”

“No Roman Candles, we learnt our lesson.”

Sergio nodded, “and no surprises?”

Andrés had to suppress a smirk.

“No surprises.”

 _...for the kids_ , he added as an afterthought.

Sergio eyed his brother rather curiously, and Andrés thought he had given something away, but he seemed to have dismissed whatever it was and sat on his bed, taking his glasses off and running a hand through his hair. Andrés quietly exhaled.

“Goodnight, Andrés.” Sergio sighed, sending his brother a more sincere smile.

He might never admit it, but Sergio was extremely thankful to have his brother, his friends, on these harder nights. Running a school was one thing, looking after kids was another. Running a boarding school for orphaned kids was something completely else. Sergio had no idea how he would have kept it all together if he didn’t have such a tight-knit, albeit odd, team to fall back on. Perhaps that’s why it worked; they weren’t simply colleges, and they weren’t just teachers to students in a school. They were more like a family, dysfunctional at best, but a family all the same. A small warmth took over Sergio’s heart — it always did when he remembered this.

Andrés saw the shift in Sergio’s expression and smiled, genuinely. He knew exactly what string of thoughts were running through his brother’s head, and it assured him he would at least get a few hours of rest before six teenagers would wreak havoc for breakfast. He would need that sleep, Andrés thought, because it was guaranteed he wouldn’t be getting any for the next few nights.

“Goodnight, Sergio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I hope that made sense. 
> 
> What happened in Toledo? What happened with Raquel? How are those two events related? Are they even related? What surprise does Andrés have?
> 
> I hope you’re asking those types of question or else I’ve seriously failed at setting up this story. I think one thing I’d like to make clear is that two separate events were recounted in Sergio’s nightmare — what happened between him and Raquel, and what happened at the school a couple years after. We’re they related? I’ll let you deduce that in the comments. 
> 
> If you think this story is worth to continue writing, please do let me know!! i’m on twitter as @raquelmurilloes if you’d like to reach out to me there too :)


	2. Part i — Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of the party, and Andrés has a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No tw's for this chapter though it's a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it!

“SHIT!”

Silene had exclaimed, tripping over a small rock and dropping the silver dish from her hands, sending cupcakes flying over the grass. The others laughed. Andrés pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. Although, he couldn’t stop a small smile from appearing on his face. As trivial as they may be, he really cherished these goofy moments with the kids.

They had started the preparation for Daniel’s birthday party after the children’s classes had ended for the day. With Sergio taking him for an extra long walk by the lake to scout some frogs as a treat, the rest of the band had time to set up for the evening’s activities. The kids were hanging up banners around the courtyard, setting the dinner table, laying out the food — a few monks had even chipped in with little party favours they made from wood. Though everything was being handled fairly smoothly, Andrés still had yet to set up his surprise. He bent down next to Silene, helping her pick up the cupcakes. _Soon_ , he thought. 

“I’m telling you, something was wrong!” Mònica said, setting down some plates on the table. Nairobi shrugged. 

“Prof probably had a fever or— Mirko! The spoons go on the left side!” Àgata rolled her eyes at the boy, who simply threw a smirk her way. “Anyways, Mon, it’s nothing I’d worry about.”

Mònica shook her head, leaning on the edge of the table, watching Ándres as he helped Silene with her cupcakes. The smile on his face was different from the one he wore last night; it held a secret. 

“No... there was definitely something weird,” She affirmed, setting down the last of the plates. Àgata raised a brow. “I mean, Marseille and Berlin looked really... well, they just looked strange,” she shrugged, “and I’m sure I heard Palermo in the hallways earlier.”

“They always look strange!” Àgata snorted, arranging the final few sets of cutlery. Silene had joined them at the table after picking up the cakes, peering over Monica’s shoulder.

“Boo!”

Monica jumped, not noticing Bogotá was next her with a rather large bowl of soup, and ended up knocking them both over. Àgata and Silene both fell into a fit of laughter, pointing at their now soup drenched teacher, who was looking up at them with a mix of confusion and anger. Monica’s eyes grew big, scrambling to stand back up, more concerned about getting her clothes dirty. A quiet string of curse words left Bogotá’s mouth as he stood up, and the girls giggled.

“You’re lucky I made another pot...” Bogotá grumbled, shaking some of the liquid from his hands. 

Marseille watched from the other end of the courtyard, chuckling to himself as the girls began to help Bogotá clean up; there wasn’t long until Sergio would return with Daniel, and the preparations for his party were almost complete. Andrés came next to him, folding his hands behind his back, watching too.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marseille asked quietly, watching the kids as they finish setting up for the party. Andrés chuckled.

“I think Daniel would be disappointed if we didn’t celebrate properly.”

Marseille elbowed him softly, unimpressed. “You know what I mean.”

Andrés looked onto the courtyard wistfully; he saw his kids, bright smiles on their faces as they strung up a piñata that resembled a frog on the branch of a tree, Aníbal giggling as he perched on Martín’s back, hanging the string from a branch. He extended his arm out towards the scene, displaying it to Marseille.

“Do you not think they deserve to smile for a little longer after tonight?” Andrés asked. Marseille had to stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head; _here he goes on another grand speech_. He nodded nonetheless, silently regretting asking his question in the first place.

“I don’t doubt that Daniel will be missing his father tonight, more than others,” Andrés said softly, “I’m sure they all will... Augustín used to organise the kids’ parties, remember?”

_Dainty string lights. Loud, awful old music. Laughter filled the garden in Toledo. The kids had party hats with their names written in Augustín’s scrawny writing, holding streamers in their hands as they danced. He grabbed a microphone and serenaded the birthday girl. Silene had only just turned eight, but she felt like she could handle the world in that moment._

“And our Mirko too... losing Radko was awful for us all, but can you even begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a twin?” 

They both watched as Bogotá and Mirko playfully wrestled over some bread that was meant for the dinner party. There was no doubt a piece of him was lost back in Toledo; it really took something from all of the kids. But being so young when it happened — a literal child in the face of death — the grief became a part of their growth, rather than something to mull over. 

It was hard to grow up with that trauma, even after they had undergone therapy (the monks had helped out immensely where they could), they would still be alarmed by loud noises, unsettled by an unfamiliar face or even the very distant sound of a siren. Although Mònica had never lived through Toledo, having been admitted into the school after they made the move to the monastery, she was extremely empathetic towards her classmates. If it was even possible, she had absorbed some of the underlying pain her peers felt too. She knew there were things she didn’t know; she couldn’t know. Mònica might have not been there, on either of those nights, but she felt how deep the scars ran in everyone’s mind. 

Marseille sighed. “And you really think that _this_ is going to help?”

“There were a lot of things we couldn’t bring back from Toledo, at least let them miss one less thing.”

“You didn’t even run this by Sergio.”

“I’m sure he’ll be surprised.”

“Oh, he’ll be surprised,” Marseille almost cackled at the thought, “and then he’ll have your balls on a stick.”

Andrés stifled a laugh, looking at his friend.

“It won’t be that bad, we all know what happened,” He waved it off, “this was going to happen eventually.”

“We know your brother’s _version_ of what happened,” Marseille nodded slightly, quirking a brow, “and we both know he didn’t tell us everything.”

“And if we don’t go through with this, I don’t think we ever will.” Andrés said. Marseille tilted his head slightly, as if mentally agreeing with what he had pointed out. But then he raised a finger in the air.

“Will the kids even remember— I mean, it’s been what? Three years since we left Toledo, and this whole... whole _mess_ between them happened... just the year before that?” Marseille was doing mental gymnastics, and Andrés had to suppress a chuckle. “Will they remember after four years... give or take the, you know, the trauma.”

Andrés felt a small tap on the back of his shoulder, turning to see Martín, giving him a short nod. _Soon_.

He cleared his throat.

“We’ll have to find out.”

* * *

Everyone had gathered around the dinner table, waiting for Sergio and Daniel to return from the lake. The kids were bubbling with excitement, these parties always the highlights of their year. Bogotá and Marseille exchanged rather nervous looks, and Martín had disappeared on Andrés’ orders. 

“So we can’t even have a little bite?” Aníbal asked, eyeing the roast on the table. He received a swift whack on the back of his head from Silene.

“You are not touching the food until Dani gets here!” She reprimanded. Aníbal pouted, rubbing the back of his head. Everyone else chuckled. Then, they heard a click of the gates, some small footsteps approaching and Daniel’s laugh echoing through the halls. Everyone hushed, waiting for the birthday boy, vibrating with excitement in their spots. Quiet giggles and elbows poking ribs, it was hard for a group of teenagers to stay still. 

Sergio appeared through an archway first, a goofy grin on his face as he nudged his glasses up his nose. He stepped to the side slightly, beckoning towards the party with his arm, displaying the scene to Daniel who was only a step behind him. 

_“SURPRISE!”_

They all shouted in unison, letting off party poppers and streamers and the most delighted giggles. Daniel’s face lit up brightly, running towards his friends and knocking them all to the ground with a bear hug. The adults chuckled, watching the group of six roll around on the grass in a fit of laughter. Sergio approached them, crouching down and ruffling his hand through Daniel’s hair.

“I told you everyone else was busy.” He said softly. Daniel responded with a toothy smile and helped his friends back on their feet with his professor. Once they had rid the grass from their knees and their laughs had died down to a giggle, Sergio joined his colleagues, who had gathered by the end of the table. He noticed Bogotá was forcing a smile towards him.

“Where’s Martín? We’re going to start eating soon, no?” Sergio asked, looking carefully between his brother and Marseille, who seemed to be masking a look of guilt. Sergio tried to meet Marseille’s eyes, but he avoided them and opted for making intense eye contact with his wine glass instead. Sergio didn’t like this at all; _they had something planned —_ and the fact that he wasn’t in on this plan unsettled him more. 

Andrés looked at his watch, shrugging. “He should be here...”

Sergio raised a brow and opened his mouth, but before he could ask another question, he heard a collective gasp from the kids behind him and whipped around. Marseille muttered a small _here we go_ from under his breath, sipping from his wine, and Bogotá fumbled with his apron, looking at Andrés who had the biggest smirk on his face.

Martín had come back into the courtyard, spreading his arms out towards the party, explaining something to someone next to him. Sergio couldn’t see who was next to him. There was a moment of silence from the party; he looked at the kids, watching confusedly as some sort of realisation dawned on their faces. He studied Mònica, who remained startled, seemingly not understanding what was happening too. Sergio made a mental note of this — whatever the kids knew — _what or who they were seeing_ — she didn’t. This didn’t bring him any comfort at all.

Then out of the silence, a loud, drawn out _“Sí”_ erupted from Daniel, and he sprinted in Martín’s direction. Martín dropped his arms, and Sergio’s view cleared. He froze, the breath catching in his throat. 

_Shit_.

Daniel had run full force into their guest, enveloping them in his arms and lifting them off the ground, spinning them around and eliciting a small squeal from the woman. She wasn’t much bigger than him, and he seemed to handle her with ease, his excitement very clear. As quick as Daniel had come, the other kids ran towards them and joined, attaching themselves into the hug with frenzied shouts of joy. She wrapped her arms around them, brushing through their hair and nuzzling her cheek on their heads. _Oh_ , she thought, _how she had missed this_. Mònica remained at the dinner table, shuffling her feet. Andrés clapped his hands together and cheered, glancing at his brother, who had turned into stone, predictably. Marseille and Bogotá watched him, unsure whether to laugh or run.

She looked up, the kids cuddled into her arms, and was sure there was a tear rolling down her cheek. Her eyes met Bogotá’s, Marseille, Andrés... then they finally settled on Sergio. His breath hitched and he averted his eyes quickly to the sky. He could feel his face flushing, and his fists clenched by his side. He wanted to sink into the grass.

_Raquel Murillo._

She looked down at the kids who had attracted themselves to her hip, positively buzzing with all the excitement. Sergio took her in; the waves off her hair flowed the same as it always did, the gentle smile on her face hadn’t aged despite the many years they had been apart. Sergio wanted to say she looked exactly how he remembered her — _and she did_ — but he remembered her with fury in her eyes, unforgiving. 

“I missed you all too... but i can’t feel my legs anymore.” She chuckled, patting Silene’s back gently. They let her go, rather reluctantly, beaming up at their former teacher with the brightest of eyes. She held out a small present that fortunately hadn’t been crushed in her arms.

“Happy birthday Daniel.” Raquel grinned. He took the present carefully in his hands, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world. The smile on his face, on all of her kids’ faces, gave Raquel the sense of relief she searched for as Martín led her into the monastery; this was it, _she had come home_. 

“Are you only here for the party, Raquel?” Àgata asked; she picked up a hint of sadness in her voice. Raquel shook her head with a wide grin, she was here to stay, and the kids cheered. Sergio sent his brother a sharp glare. They re-approached the dinner table in the middle of the courtyard, and Martín joined the men, watching the kids chattering happily between themselves. Raquel noticed a timid blonde girl standing rather awkwardly amid the buzz, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hi,” she said softly, Mònica looked up. Raquel wanted her to feel comfortable. “I used to teach here- well, not here specifically but, back in Toledo,” she attempted a light chuckle, trying to articulate her thoughts, and Monica smiled. “Andrés told me there was someone I hadn’t met, you’re Mònica, right? I’m Raquel.”

“I know, I’ve heard about you,” Mònica nodded, Raquel suddenly grew a little nervous and Mònica chuckled, “Really nice things, I promise. I hoped I would meet you one day.” 

Raquel broke out into a smile, taking a party hat that Mirko handed to her as he passed them. She held it in her hands, watching as the kids started to snap up muffins, crackers and little pieces of bread dotted around the table as they teased and laughed with each other. The last time she had seen her kids they were barely eight, bright eyed and running chaos. It soothed her to see that they’d mellowed down, but they seemed mature beyond her age. She gave Mònica’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and joined the men at the other side of the table rather apprehensively, offering a sheepish wave. Bogotá instantly came to life, and beamed as he encased her in a warm hug. 

_“Raquel... Raquel- Raquel please...”_

“Raquel!” He exclaimed, Sergio winced. Marseille patted her back softly, offering her a warm smile and a gentle greeting. Raquel giggled, the apprehension wearing off as quickly as it came. She looked at Andrés, though her gaze swept briefly over Sergio, who had his eyes fixated on his feet. She had to stop herself from sighing. 

“I see you managed to keep a surprise from the kids this time?” She teased, and they all laughed, albeit Sergio, who looked everywhere except directly in front of him. Andrés prodded Raquel’s shoulder.

“I’ve gotten better.” He winked. They laughed and continued to chat casually, as if nothing had happened at all, _as if she was always here._ Sergio wanted to get away, but his feet had attached themselves to the ground as some sort of cruel joke.

“I haven’t seen Augustín or Radko yet? Are they inside?” Raquel asked, looking around. The smiles from everyone’s faces had dropped and they fell silent. The children were laughing happily at the table, jeering as Daniel drank a bowl full of juice. Sergio’s head snapped up to finally look at her.

_“Protect them.”_

They all exchanged looks, and Raquel looked at them confusedly. She felt the atmosphere between them shift slightly, and she didn’t like where this was leading, she didn’t like it one bit. Sergio studied her face, a little confused. _Surely_ , he reasoned with himself, _she had to have known._

“Raquel,” Bogotá said softly, “You didn’t... You don’t know?”

Marseille placed a hand on her shoulder gently and she looked up at him, shaking her head. It wasn’t hard for her to connect the dots however, and they watched her as she did, her face falling. 

“Toledo?” She whispered. She didn’t need them to confirm it, she already knew by the look on their faces. Martín looked at her regretfully. 

“We thought you knew.” He said. Raquel shook her head again, looking at Sergio this time. He didn’t flinch when their eyes met, holding her gaze. 

“I didn’t.” She said quietly, watching Sergio’s Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, breaking their gaze to look down at the floor. Bogotá let out a heavy sigh, and Martín brushed through his hair. Andrés looked between his brother and Raquel, and shook his head.

“We’ve plenty of time to catch up later,” he said, “I don’t think Daniel would appreciate us killing the mood.”

They nodded, though the solemn expressions remained. Raquel’s mind reeled. Why hadn’t she been told? She had to pull herself out of her thoughts rather quickly, not wanting to taint the evening in an effort to catch up with everything she had obviously missed, although she had a feeling she had been kept in the dark deliberately. However, she would get answers tonight, she told herself. Raquel looked at Sergio again, who was staring at the ground and seemed to be stuck in his thoughts. He hadn’t spoken a word since she arrived.

“Hey!” Silene called from the other end of the table, “I’m hungry! Can we eat now?”

Andrés nodded, beckoning towards the table. “Our children are waiting.”

They all nodded too, walking towards the table where the kids had started to pick and choose their seats. Daniel grabbed Raquel’s hand, pulling him with her.

“You’re next to me!” He beamed. Àgata gasped.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” She pouted, taking Raquel’s other arm. Martín chuckled as he sat down, and the others shook their heads with a grin. Sergio stared at his plate, his mind still racing. Andrés sat next to his brother, watching as the children fought over Raquel.

“You should have told me.” Sergio whispered. 

“Why? So you could drive her away again?” Andrés retorted. Sergio looked up at him, annoyed.

“That’s not-”

“I know, that’s not what happened,” He rolled his eyes, watching as the others devised an appropriate seating plan, Raquel giggling to herself. “But you knew she was coming back eventually.”

“Then why did you keep it a secret from me?”

“Because look at how you’re reacting now, you two haven’t said a word to each other!”

Sergio sighed, pushing his glasses up with his thumb, shrugging. Andrés scoffed.

“Nothing happened, _my ass_. I don’t think it was just another job that took her away from here.”

Sergio opened his mouth to retort, but closed it once he realised who had approached the chair across from him. Andrés smirked, smiling at Raquel as she sat down. His eyes darted around for a place to settle, eventually choosing the wine glass in front of him. Raquel took a moment to study him; his hair in the same style as it always was, glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose and his beard neatly trimmed to his neck. She had to stop herself from letting out a sigh. 

As the kids settled around them at the table, it didn’t take long for them to start hurling questions at Raquel. She struggled to get a word in edgeways, the children eager to catch her up with what she had missed, and wanting to hear her stories too. Sergio cleared his throat, raising his brow at the children, who immediately shut their mouths as they looked at their professor. Sergio was aware that Raquel’s gaze fell on him too, but regained his composure for the kids. The falter in his words wasn’t lost on Raquel. Mònica eyed them both curiously.

“We have plenty of time later tonight to talk, the food will get cold if we don’t eat,” Sergio said. The kids nodded, and Silene grumbled something about the prof being a buzzkill. Raquel bit her lip; Sergio hadn’t lost his authority at all over the years. Bogotá stood up with a grin, beckoning towards the mass of food he had cooked up for the night, explaining how each and every dish he had picked out was especially made for Daniel as he piled everyone’s plates. 

Sergio dared to glance up at Raquel as the kids were distracted, and found that she was looking straight back at him. He wanted to tear his eyes away from hers but found that he couldn’t, and she indeed felt the same. Sergio sent her small, timid nod before settling his eyes to his plate, positive that his cheeks had flushed. Raquel returned the nod, feeling somewhat lost in regards to him. They had parted on murky terms, to say the very least. She looked down at her food too, listening as Mirko explained the games they had prepared for the party after dinner.

Mònica leant over to Silene and Àgata, pointing discreetly towards Sergio as he began to eat. 

“See... that’s exactly how prof was last night. It’s the same look.”

The three of them looked at their professor, then at each other. They clearly had some meddling to do later that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Raquel!!! (i think the surprise was quite predictable, and a good few of you seemed to have guessed correctly from the last chapter too!) I hope this clarifies the plot a lot more now — I know it's quite a heavy one to establish, and I'm trying my best to convey it the best I can in this and the coming chapters :) also, this won't all entirely be around Andrés' point of view, though quite like him being the insinuator of chaos, he'll probably be brushed a little more to the side now.
> 
> So, I hope this answered *some* questions, perhaps left you with more too. I really like the mystery this story has/ will sift through in the coming chapters, and also keeping the readers on edge is a sweet bonus.
> 
> Theories, questions and comments are more than welcome!! Please let me know what you think, if you have any suggestions etc.


	3. Part ii — Milk & Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party comes to an end and Raquel is shown to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter to make up for the wait between parts, I hope you can forgive me :') 
> 
> Again big thanks and hugs to my lovely beta reader for letting me run this mess by her, I think I owe Rheanna therapy after putting her through this. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The party had went beautifully. The kids played games, laughed, sang songs and danced for as long as they could. The adults watched with wide grins, cheering their young ones as they whacked the piñata, picking songs for them to sing and joining them on the dance floor as _Gasolina_ started to play on Daniel’s request. Everyone was dancing now, except Sergio, who was predictably content with watching from the table, refusing to move despite Silene’s attempts to coerce him with promises of turning in her assignments early (those promises were very much empty). 

He watched as a small circle formed, everyone clapping and cheering as Marseille and Martín danced with each other in the middle, pulling the stupidest dance moves to make the kids double over in laughter. Then they pulled in Raquel, who’s face flushed as Ágata tried to teach her some more _modern_ moves. She laughed and copied her while trying to maintain her dignity in front of the kids. Sergio didn’t even realise the silly smile on his face as he watched her, and after what had been years, he felt a sense of normality wash over him and let himself drift into the thoughts he had been trying to pushback all night. This was how their parties used to be; filled with natural laughter, bright smiles and loud music. There were no tears, stroppy kids or forced smiles, and he knew exactly why. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, brushing out some confetti Aníbal had dumped on him after dinner. _This was how they used to be._

Raquel was laughing, dancing and singing with her children. She had missed this far too much; seeing their smiles, the way they reached for her made her feel like she had never left and _oh, how she wished she never did._

The four years she had been away felt like decades, and she knew she had missed so many precious moments with them; perhaps Ánibal had finally curbed his fear of heights, and Mirko might have nailed the one karate move he was always practicing when she took their gym class. Her smile faltered a little, realising she would never know if Augustín had mastered the accordion like he had promised her the night she left. She thought about how Radko had told her he would bake her the best cake she had ever tasted when she came back, and her heart sank. She had questions — _so many questions —_ and things she needed to know, things that she _should_ have known. Her gaze eventually fell on Sergio, who was staring directly back at her. His breath immediately hitched, and he darted his eyes away so quickly it was clear she had caught him in the middle of _something._

Mónica elbowed Silene and pointed towards Sergio and Raquel. Silene raised a hand to whack her friend for interrupting her in the middle of a dance, but Mónica quickly pulled her hand down and nodded in the direction she was pointing in. 

“Look,” she whispered, “He’s doing it again.” 

Silene studied their professor, her eyes flickering between him and Raquel for a few moments. Mónica watched them too, confused. _Had something happened between them?_ She thought. She had never been told much about why or how Raquel had left, the subject was pretty touchy between the kids, and she didn’t feel it was her place to ask the adults either. To be perfectly honest, the other children didn’t really know much more than Mónica did either. 

_It was Ánibal who had discovered Raquel was missing that day; she was supposed to teach their youngest how to ride a bike before classes that morning. He wasn’t phased when he didn’t see Raquel in the kitchen for breakfast — she had promised him pancakes, but he settled for a banana. Though the confusion began to settle when he couldn’t find her in the yard, or in the day lounge or in the classroom either. It was when he went to her bedroom and found it completely emptied he began to freak out, rushing to wake his friends, which initiated a domino effect of panic between them all. Sergio had woken up to what he thought was a fight, but stepped into the hallway to see his children running around in a frenzy. Martín and Bogotá were chasing after them in their robes, seemingly still half asleep and very confused, trying to herd them together. Sergio didn’t expect the fallout of the night before to be as painful as it was. He had eventually coaxed the kids into their playroom as calmly as he could, letting them settle on the plush rug in the middle of the room and wiped some of their tears as he crouched in front of them._

_He tried to tell them with a gentle voice that Raquel would be gone for a while, but when they asked him just how long she would be gone for, they noticed his voice wobble as he nudged his glasses up when he said he didn’t know, and that was when they started cry and whine and weep, because even the kids knew when he wasn’t telling them the truth (his tell had become obvious). Young kids are incredibly perceptive, and it was doubtless that at least a few, if not all, of them had realised things would be changing for them. Sergio was on the verge of tears himself, running a shaky hand through his hair as his group of eight year olds entered a collective meltdown in front of him. Marseille, Augustín and Andrés had rushed in and were on their knees in seconds, trying to console the kids with chocolate and little sweets they had gathered from the kitchen, but with no success._

_“What do you mean she’s gone?” Ágata whimpered. “But she said she would let us play with the frogs today!” Daniel whined. “You’re lying!” Silene screamed. They were all distraught, upset, confused, and rightfully so. How would you have felt if the only maternal figure you had ever known disappeared overnight?_

“Something happened.” Silene whispered, not taking her eyes off Raquel, who had been whisked back to middle of the dance floor by the boys. Mónica furrowed her brows.

“What?”

“The morning we found out Raquel was, well, gone... Profe didn’t tell us why she went away, and he didn’t tell us if she was coming back. He was being really weird, exactly like that,” Silene explained quietly. Mónica nodded, listening intently. “He said he couldn’t tell us — or he didn’t know, something like that, but I just knew he was hiding something from us, something he didn’t want us to know.”

“So you think what he was hiding is-”

“Is the reason he’s acting so weird now.” Silene affirmed. 

  
  


* * *

It was just after nine when Martín had clapped his hands together and announced the party was, unfortunately for the kids, over for the night. Killing the music and earning a loud _boo_ from the children, he and Bogotá ushered them off the dancefloor with a promise of pancakes in the morning if they got ready for bed without any problems. Raquel smiled as a warmth took over her heart; her kids’ love for pancakes had not changed. As they all walked through the arches of the monastery to the hallways, Daniel tugged at the sleeve of her dress and she looked at him, suddenly aware of how much he resembled his late father in the evening light. 

“You’re really back? Like, for good?” He asked tentatively. Raquel’s expression softened and she placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it gently as they walked.

“I’m back for good,” she nodded, and he broke out into a grin, seemingly satisfied with her answer and ran ahead to Aníbal. It wasn’t difficult to see that he needed the reassurance, and Raquel tried not to let it weigh heavy on her heart when she realised how difficult it might be for the kids to depend on her again. After all that had happened in Toledo, she wouldn’t be surprised if they kept their distance from her. She had left them, after all, slipping away under the cover of the night sky like a coward. Raquel winced. _Coward_. There was absolutely no way she would have been able to leave if she had seen the heartbreak on her children’s faces, doubtless that their tears alone would have had her unpacking her trunk almost as fast as she had packed it. That word fitted her perfectly. 

Raquel was pulled out of her thoughts as Marseille gave her a gentle tap on her shoulder and she realised she was strolling through the halls aimlessly now, the children having retreated to their rooms as they passed them. He smiled at her.

“Andrés asked me to show you to your room.” He said, holding out his arm to her. Raquel laughed. Marseille’s charm was irresistible, and it was one of the reasons why she was so fond of the taller man. She had always teased him about being a romantic at heart, although he insisted that he was devoted to the children, much like the rest of them. 

“So I’m not capable enough to find my own room?” She teased light heartedly, linking their arms. Marseille let out a hearty chuckle and Raquel’s smile grew wider, letting him guide her down the hall. 

“You’d rather chivalry stay dead?” He quipped back. They both shared a look as they walked, before bursting into laughter together. It comforted Raquel to see that the ease she felt with her colleagues hadn’t been damaged or tainted at all, and it almost seemed as if they had picked up right where they had left off. 

Marseille led her to a room that had a blank wooden plaque on the door similar to the others, but didn’t bear a name yet. He took out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, unlinking his arm from Raquel’s to push it open. He let her step in first, a silly grin plastered on his face that wasn’t lost on her. Her room was nothing out of the ordinary, as she had expected; It had a bed in the middle, a couple wooden cupboards against the walls and a tall standing set of drawers next to a desk with a chair tucked into it. Another door at the other end of the room led to what she assumed was her bathroom, and two big stained glass windows behind her bed let in more than enough light. She smiled, breathing it in for the first time; it was a weird feeling that she couldn't quite pinpoint exactly, but she knew it felt like she had finally come home.

“Well, this is pretty much it,” Marseille shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “I know Andrés sent you a timetable, but the kids are usually down for breakfast at around eight so they can mess around a little before classes. And they know when lights go out so don’t worry about getting caught with a drink in the kitchen at midnight.”

Marseille winked and Raquel rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him, chuckling. She had been caught a fair few times in the middle of the night with a glass of red wine and a book in the kitchen back in Toledo, and he clearly wouldn't let her forget it.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she grinned, brushing her fingers over the stone wall as she explored her room. “Do you know where my stuff is? I think I left my trunk in the yard.”

“Sergio will bring it up, I think he and Bogotá are clearing up down there anyways.”

Raquel fought hard to keep the smile on her face from dropping.

“Oh.” she said, trying to keep her voice indifferent. She sat on the edge of her bed and swallowed a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. Marseille sat next to her. 

“Raquel-”

“He didn’t know I was coming back, did he?” Raquel asked quietly. Marseille sighed, shaking his head, giving her a rather sorry look. Raquel looked down at her hands, chewing on her bottom lip. She knew her return would pose some challenges, and honestly, she had been second guessing her decision right up until Martín met her at the gates of the Monastery. 

Marseille opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to console or comfort her, but Raquel cut him off again before he could speak.

“If you see him, just tell him to leave it outside my room,” she spoke softly, despite the little bit of pain that flickered through her eyes. Marseille simply nodded, not wanting to provoke her further. The flicker in her eyes told him that there was definitely something more to this — something more to _her_ — than she was letting on. At least now he knew that something definitely happened between them, despite Sergio’s repeated insistence that nothing really did, and whatever it was that happened, it had clearly affected them both. He was looking forward to sharing this information with the others.

“I think I’m going to see the kids before they settle for bed.”

Marseille nodded, taking this as a cue for him to leave. He handed her a set of keys and offered a small nod, which she returned with a strained smile. He wanted to say he was sorry — but sorry for what? Sorry that she and the professor clearly had unresolved issues? Sorry that she didn’t want to talk about it? Perhaps there were more things that extended the boundary of her life at the school. She had been away for four years, after all. There was bound to be more that she was hiding. Marseille thought back to that _flicker_ in her eye. _There was something else._

He bit his tongue, not particularly wanting to start anything with her that could end in an argument (or worse), she already seemed tense as it was. He stood by the door, watching her as she swept her eyes across the room once more.

“Well, it’s nice to have you back Raquel,” He said sincerely, “We really missed you.”

Raquel smiled at him, genuinely. “I missed everyone too.”

  
  


* * *

There was a gentle knock at the door, and the three girls looked at each other. 

“Were we being too loud?” Mónica asked, biting her lip. Silene threw a pillow at her softly and laughed. 

“Loud? Món, you’re like a mouse.”

She threw the pillow back, pouting. “I was just asking!”

Ágata rolled her eyes, padding towards the door. Silene stuck her tongue out at Mónica, who returned the gesture sweetly, both breaking out into a giggle only seconds after holding eye contact. The knock grew a little louder, and Ágata opened the door just a crack, peeking her head out.

“Who the-” she stopped herself, tipping her scowl up into a smile, “Hi Raquel.”

Raquel smiled softly, “Can I tuck you girls in?”

“Huh? We’re not five years-”

Ágata sent Silene a sharp glare over her shoulder to shut her up, opening the door wider to reveal Raquel. The girls instantly perked up, and smiled brightly as she stepped in. She brushed her fingers over the plaque on their door as she walked past and traced the three words carved into it with her fingers; _Tokyo. Nairobi. Stockholm._

The girls were sitting together on Silene’s bed, and had brushed off some pillows and other random objects of theirs onto the floor to make room for Raquel at the foot of the bed. She sat down in front of the teenagers, who were looking at her with big, bright eyes as they settled cross legged opposite her in their pajamas.

She felt her breath catch in her throat as her gaze swept over Silene and Ágata; _they hadn’t changed._ Then she studied Mónica’s face for a moment; _kind and gentle, she balanced her two friends out perfectly._ It never really occurred to Raquel just how much her children had grown up until now; She remembered Ágata and Silene’s room in Toledo, how she had painted it with pinks and purples, covered their walls with butterflies and flowers and had always made sure their shelves were filled with softest plush toys she could get them. It was starkly different to the monastery they lived in now. The walls were old cobbled stone and the floor only had a small rug to keep their feet from freezing. There wasn’t any personality other than some of the girls’ drawings taped onto the walls and it was clear that the men had no idea how to decorate for the girls, or they didn’t even try. She made a mental note to ask Andrés about this.

“So,” Ágata pulled Raquel from her thoughts. “you came back.”

“Of course I did,” She nodded, frowning a little. “I was always coming back.”

The three girls exchanged looks and Raquel’s heart sank, shuffling a little closer to them. She saw how disbelief flashed across Silene’s face as she ducked her head, and Ágata shuffled a little on the bed. _They thought she had abandoned them._ She reached her hands out and placed one gently on Ágata’s knee and the other on Silene’s, squeezing them gently. Mónica offered her an empathetic smile, sitting between the two girls who were staring down at the bed.

“Hey,” she said softly. They didn’t look up. “I would never leave my girls, you know that.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” Silene said quietly, her voice distant. “You… you didn’t even tell _us_ where you were going…”

“Silene-” Ágata tried to interject, but Silene wouldn’t let her continue. It had been eating her up for four years, and although she had managed to keep her feelings pushed down at the party, there was nothing stopping them from surfacing tonight, and she was finally able to let them out.

“Why did you just disappear without saying anything? You… You could’ve waited until the morning, or came to our rooms to tell us o-or left a note?” Silene finally looked up and tears were rolling down her cheeks now, her bottom lip wobbled slightly as she spoke. Raquel looked at her as a familiar guilt washed over her, seeing the small little girl from Toledo break in front of her eyes. Ágata had reached behind Mónica and took one of Silene’s hands, squeezing it. She continued to lash out, and Raquel let her, rubbing her thumb in soft circles on her knee, taking the hits as they came. Although it confused her that they didn’t know her leave was temporary; she had assumed Sergio would have told the kids she was coming back — she assumed he would have told them _something_. She realised she had assumed a lot of things. She deserved the lashings, the questions, the _hurt_ , and frankly she had been a fool for not expecting it.

Raquel might have suffered when she left, but she could only have imagined what the kids went through, and there wasn’t a single second that went by when Raquel didn’t wish it had all gone differently than it did. 

“Why did you go Raquel? What the hell was so much more important than us that you had to leave us behind?” Silene whimpered. Her voice was quiet and thick and it was dripping with so much resentment that Raquel’s heart shattered completely. _That was it; that was the final blow._

Her eyes stung with the tears she was desperately trying to hold back and she couldn’t form a single word in her mouth; her throat seemed to have closed up. She took Silene’s wrist and pulled her softly onto her lap, cradling her head on her neck. Silene shook with silent sobs, and Raquel had to use every ounce of self restraint she had in her body to not break down in front of the girls. She held her other arm out to Ágata, who didn’t hesitate for a moment and crawled onto her lap too, nuzzling her face on Raquel’s skin, letting only a few tears slip down her cheeks.

With both girls on her lap, Raquel brushed softly over their backs and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of both their heads. She closed her eyes for a second — a single fleeting second.

_It was the middle of summer and everyone was out in the yard. It was warm in Toledo and Raquel was laying on the grass, basking in the sun as the kids played and the men organised a barbecue. She heard two thuds on the ground next to her and quiet sniffles, opening her eyes to see her two girls in tears. She sat up, frowning, and asked the five year old’s what was wrong._

_“They’re playing football!” Ágata pouted, pointing to the others on the grass. “We hate football!” Silene crossed her arms, pouting too. Raquel had to bite back a smile, wiping their tears softly. She told them it was okay, the boys were allowed to play football if they wanted to. Ágata mumbled something about how she really hated boys and Silene agreed; they were very stupid. Raquel shook her head and chuckled quietly, pulling the little girls onto her lap with ease, cuddling them. They continued to complain about the boys, expressing their distaste for the male gender as much as their little mouths could. Raquel nodded and listened intently, but she couldn't help a stupid grin from spreading across her lips as they babbled away. She brushed through their hair softly._

_“I love you both so so much, you know that, right?” Raquel said softly, holding them tightly to her. She had never forgotten the wide, toothy smiles they had on their faces as they beamed up at her. Duh, they had giggled, and Ágata pointed out that Raquel wouldn’t give them milk and cookies every night if she didn’t. She kissed their foreheads._

_“I am always going to be here to give you anything you want, my little girls.” Raquel smiled at them, cupping their cheeks in the palms of her hands. There was something about that moment; the way they looked up at her with wide eyes, the boys laughter in the background and the sound of the men chatting away at the barbecue. If Raquel wasn’t already completely and utterly devoted to them before that moment, she undoubtedly was now._

_“Forever?” Silene asked, her eyes big and innocent as she looked up at her. Raquel didn’t miss a beat, nodding her head._

_“Forever.”_

Raquel swallowed her tears, watching the girls curled up in her arms. She had waited for years to be able to hold them like this again, and she knew she would never be able to let them go again. She wished she never did in the first place.

“I promise, there is absolutely nothing more important to me than my girls,” she whispered thickly. She looked up at Mónica, who had tears in her eyes too and smiled softly, reaching her hand out and brushing some of her curls from her face. “the three of you.”

Ágata sniffed, wrapping her arms tightly around Raquel.

“Then why did you not-”

“It was complicated,” Raquel said quietly, rubbing her back gently. “but it’s over now. I’m here, and I’m staying.”

Silene lifted her head from where it was tucked on her neck, rubbing her eyes. They were puffy and red and her cheeks were covered in dried tears. It pained Raquel that she was the cause of this. There was a confused look on Silene’s face as she looked up at her.

“Where did you even go— why did you go?” She asked. Raquel winced, realising she hadn’t prepared for these questions. Ágata looked up too, furrowing her brows. “Why did you _have_ to go?”

Mónica looked at Raquel curiously too, noticing the conflict on her face. She had seen that look on all of her teacher’s faces whenever they were asked difficult questions; trying to decide whether to tell the truth or to dance around it. It was clear what Raquel had opted for as she plastered a small smile on her lips.

“It’s late, girls,” She said softly, brushing some hair out of the Ágata’s face, “I’d rather not _bore_ you to sleep,”

The three teens opened their mouths to retaliate, but Raquel quickly interjected before they could trap her in another tricky position. 

“Why don’t we go down for some cookies and milk before bed?” She asked. The girls disregarded whatever they were going to say almost instantly, their eyes growing wide as silly grins crossed their faces. She held Silene and Ágata a little tighter to her, noticing that they shared a look for a moment. They felt small in her arms again, though they would always be her little girls, Raquel couldn’t help herself but wish they were five years old again. She let them go before more tears could escape her eyes.

“C’mon, my treat,” She stood up from the bed, holding her arms out for the girls, who quickly jumped up too. “but we need to be silent, the boys can’t know.”

They giggled quietly and nodded, tears and all forgotten at the mention of late night cookies. Raquel brushed a hand through her hair, watching as they searched for jumpers and slippers. Milk and cookies had never failed her.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sergio gently let the trunk down in front of her door and he reached his arm to knock, but caught himself just before his knuckles rasped the wood. It was a reflex he silently cursed himself for. He brought his hand back up to his face and nudged his glasses up his nose. _She wants you to just leave it by her door,_ he repeated mentally _._ He lingered outside her door for a moment — he knew that he shouldn’t — and his eyes fell down to the leather trunk on the floor. 

_It fell shut with a loud snap, he flinched at the sound. She tightened the clips, refusing to meet his teary eyes. “If you won’t do it, someone has to.” Her voice shook, and he felt it rattle something inside him. He hated this feeling; He hated that he felt this feeling._

Sergio swallowed, hard, blinking himself out of his thoughts with a brisk shake of his head. He couldn’t let himself slip, not again. So he straightened up his back, fixed the collar of his shirt and spun on his heels, only taking a few steps forward before coming face to face with a wooden plaque that read _“Professor”_ in a child’s handwriting. 

He sighed, cursing his older brother under his breath as he twisted the brass doorknob. 

_Damn him for switching rooms._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this fic isn't just all angst!!! I know it's taking a lot to set up the plot so I hope I'm not dragging this out too much :/ 
> 
> I'm quite liking writing the mystery and ~ suspense ~ though I'd love to hear your opinions on it - is it something that you like too? or is it a bit boring?
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated a whole lot!! I’m on twitter as @raquelmurilloes if you’d rather reach out to me there too :)


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